


would you want to be found, love?

by decadencethief



Series: mongrel heart [1]
Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Brooding, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23093866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decadencethief/pseuds/decadencethief
Summary: A devastated Adrian finds an unlikely friend. [Spoilers for season 3!]
Series: mongrel heart [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1677778
Comments: 11
Kudos: 39





	would you want to be found, love?

Overhead, the crowns of the trees stretch out like a canopy.

Adrian walks beneath it, picking his way between roots twisted like vicious coils just waiting for him to take a wrong step. He wonders if every living thing warps into a funhouse mirror reflection of itself given enough time, or whether it’s in the nature of some of them to be cruel and full of malice.

He’s not certain which option he prefers.

The sun is at its zenith, but little of its light is allowed past the leaves. Here and there, tendrils of shimmering sunlight drip to the ground and pool amidst the rotting foliage on the ground. Adrian makes a point of avoiding them.

Light doesn’t hurt him, not in the way it does full vampires, but the shadows are where he belongs. 

He’s been leaving his castle less and less in the past couple of weeks. Walking past his silent sentinels is too much to bear on his bad days, and most of them have been bad, recently. The castle is too quiet, its labyrinthine hallways seemingly longer every time he walks them. Darker. The air has gotten stale inside, permeated by the smell of old blood, and opening the windows does little to alleviate it.

He thinks about drenching the place in all the alcohol his father stored in the cellars and burning it down, torching every carpet and piece of expensive furniture and all the paintings of his family smiling back at him.

He would — if he wasn’t worried about the forest catching fire. He doesn’t care about a lonely, godforsaken vampire burning to death in its grave, but the thought of destroying the surrounding wildlife gives him pause. 

Or maybe he’s simply a coward.

Maybe that’s why he’s been avoiding the forest, too. In the long hours when he’s meant to be sleeping, but he keeps tossing and turning, he wonders what would happen if someone else decided to seek him out. How many more righteous hunters can he kill before he does their job for them?

His hands are stained red. His skin itches where the blood’s drying, and the scent floods his senses, so _fresh_ and— 

Adrian blinks. His skin is back to normal. There isn’t any blood there — hasn’t been for days. He still doesn’t feel clean.

He has his basket hooked on his elbow, but more often than not, it’s empty when he returns to the castle. He can go without food much longer than a human, but he can tell he’s stretching himself thin. Yet he can’t bring himself to eat; even plants make his stomach churn and bile rise up his throat. On the first evening, he goes through the motions of cooking, but then he realises he’s prepared three plates.

He throws them all out along with the food.

Around him, the forest is alive with little critters going about their business: birds, squirrels, rabbits hidden away in the shrubs. A myriad of small, frenetic heartbeats just at the edge of his perception. He moves too quietly for them to notice him, so they let him come very close. He could grab any of them to feed on if he so chose. He should, probably, lest he actually starve himself to death.

He doesn’t.

His walk has taken him to the small stream weaving through the forest, and he puts the basket down by the bank. He kneels down in the mud and dips his hands in the water. It draws a hiss from his lips: the cold pricks his skin like silver needles. He fills his hands with it and splashes it across his face until his hair and the front of his shirt are soaked and his mind is blessedly empty.

Then, he closes his eyes and lets the moment stretch. A hesitant wind tugs on his hair and brushes across his skin, and he feels gooseflesh bloom down his back. He’s trembling, and his teeth start chattering. He makes no attempt to move.

Then, he hears it. A new heartbeat, louder, but uneven, and slowly approaching. It belongs to something much bigger than a rabbit.

Adrian opens his eyes. On the other side of the river, a wolf is staring at him. It’s sat on its haunches, head tilted, amber eyes locked on his with something that looks a lot like curiosity. Its fur is white and light grey, but it’s matted, caked in mud.

An arrow sticks out of its left hind leg. Adrian notices it’s holding its paw up in the air.

The wolf dips its head down and whines.

Adrian slowly stands up. It’s an easy meal, he thinks. The wind carries a whiff of blood to him, but it’s turned sour, sticky. The wound must be old, then. The wolf has survived this long with it, but it looks tired and emaciated. It must be preventing it from hunting. It’s only a matter of time until it dies.

It doesn’t move when Adrian hops across the stream, still observing him in a way that he would describe as inquisitive if it wasn’t a _fucking animal_. 

He approaches it slowly.

He hasn’t seen wolves in this part of the forest before. He’s heard the howling of multiple of them, but they stick farther in the depths of it, where the bigger game lives. This one must have wandered off and gotten separated from its pack. Even if it wasn’t injured, it would probably not last long by itself. Wolves are pack animals, they hunt together and look after each other. A lone one, especially when it’s this young and scrawny, isn’t much of a threat for anything bigger than a rodent. 

Adrian stops in front of the wolf. It lays its head on its front paws.

The arrow in its side is one of Taka’s.

“Fuck,” Adrian mutters, and the wolf wags its tail weakly. “What did you get yourself into, buddy?”

He bends down to examine the arrow, any thought of killing this animal fading from his mind. He lets it sniff his hand instead, then gently pats its head. “Did they hurt you too? It’s alright, they won’t do that anymore.”

The words still feel like venom on his tongue, but the wolf’s nose is cold and wet as it nuzzles his hand. Its eyes are still locked on him, warm and intelligent, and then the wolf blinks slowly. It may not understand what he’s saying, but it trusts him, and it’s almost too much to bear. It wags its tail again.

Adrian finds himself getting choked up. He rubs the wolf’s forehead, scratches behind its ears. Its fur is thick and soft, and its body so much warmer than Adrian’s. It almost burns.

He stands up, slowly. “Let’s take you home, little friend.”

Then, he gently scoops the wolf into his arms and starts walking back to the castle. 

**Author's Note:**

> so, season three, huh? how are we holding up, everyone?
> 
> i have so many feelings, and all of them hurt, a lot. so this is how i'm coping. 
> 
> thank you for reading! you can find me on twitter: [@decadencethief](https://twitter.com/decadencethief)!
> 
> title is from mongrel heart by broken bells.


End file.
